Page 117 of A Dark Fall

“See you soon,” he whispers, and then he’s gone.

Okay, now I’m nervous. Thrumming with anticipation, I sit there for a few seconds wondering whether to call Rob. In the end, I decide to text her instead.

Me: He’s on his way over now. I’ve had wine. I’m afraid I’m going to drag him upstairs to bed the minute he walks through the door. Help me be serene please?

I sip my wine and inspect my nails until she responds a minute later.

Rob: Haha! As long as you talk before, during, or after then go for it, babe. Call me tomorrow! He’s crazy about you. Go get your man! Xx

Smiling, I go upstairs to run a brush through my hair and wash my face. Then, as I’m coming out of the bedroom, I decide on a whim to change my underwear. It’s pathetic, I know, but the set I put on this morning was not supposed to be seen by Jake—or anyone else for that matter. It’s what I’d consider utility underwear; the kind you put on when you’re mourning the loss of a guy, not for making up with a guy. He doesn’t need to see unattractive utility underwear. Not when I have a whole drawer full of lingerie.

So then, clearly, I’veacceptedthe fact I’ll be taking off my clothes at some point.

Redressing in my cream button-down dress, I go back downstairs and walk through to the kitchen to rinse out my glass and drink some water. When I glance at the clock again, it’s gone 8:40 p.m. He literally will be here any minute. I’m so bloody nervous. Prickles of heat ripple across my body at the idea of seeing him, of touching him, of having him close again.

For something to do, I check the fridge to see if there’s anything to munch on to pass the time and grab the bowl of strawberries I picked from the garden earlier. Five strawberries in, I jump out of my skin when the sound of the doorbell echoes around the house.

For some reason, as I stand, I look around the room to make sure I haven’t left anything embarrassing lying around. Utility underwear, for example. Before going to get the door, I take a deep, necessary, stabilizing breath and pull it open.

My stabilizing breath was utterly useless, because I feel as if I’m about to collapse when I get my first look at him in days. His mouth is reserved and the look on his face uncertain, as though he’s not sure whether to smile or not. His hands are shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans, and he’s wearing a light blue T-shirt that hugs his perfect body and teases me with glimpses of the art that decorates his arms. He looks painfully gorgeous. His hair is longer than I’ve ever seen it and mussed carelessly to the side, the hair on his face longer too. It’s not exactly a beard, but it’s far longer than his usual stubble. It suits him. It makes him look serious.

“Hey,” he says, his eyes piercing and intense. He drops his gaze down my body before returning it to hold mine.

“Hi,” I say as I step back into the hallway to let him inside. When I step forward to close the door, our bodies graze together, and I feel a thrum of electricity move through me. It ignites something inside, like a cold room that’s been given the warmth and light of an open fire.

He steps into my body and leans his head down, his arm snaking around my waist. His touch is light, gentle, but then he takes a deep breath against my hair and wraps his other arm around me to pull me tighter. I don’t stop him.

“I missed you ...” he murmurs.

I move my head back and tilt it up to face him, staring deep into his eyes. That’s when I know what I was nervous about before. I was scared that when I saw him again and felt him again, something might have changed between us, altering it irrevocably.

I was wrong.

Nothing’s changed. I still want him. More than I’ve ever wanted anything, probably.

I know I should move back and not let him kiss me—not yet, not until we’ve talked about everything—but I can’t move. The touch of his mouth on mine is all I want at this moment. I need to feel the taste of him spread across my tongue. I’ve been starved of him. When he bends his head to kiss me, his lips are rough and angry despite his gentle tone a moment ago.

He moans into the kiss as he pushes his tongue deep into my mouth, greedy and insistent. His hands come up to hold my head as he tastes me with every part of his mouth, licking along my teeth, curling his tongue around mine, sucking on my lips. With his hips, he forces me back against the wall.

“Jake ... wait. We should talk ...” I manage between his addictive, hypnotic kisses that make my body think differently. “We need to talk ...” I insist.

He pushes into me harder, and I feel the erection punch through the front of his jeans.“I know, baby. We will. Anything you want. I’ll do anything you want. I just need this right now. I need to just ... be with you. Let me be with you right now.” His voice is urgent and breathless as he drags his hot, wet lips down my neck. At the dip of my collarbone, he sucks a little too hard for a moment before his mouth begins to move again. At the same time, his hand slides under my dress and between my legs, past the seam of my knickers. As his fingers make contact, we both gasp, and then he’s spreading me open, searching, teasing. Forceful, greedy fingers turning me inside out.

He pulls his head up then and meets my eye, kissing me hard again.“Tell me you missed me,” he says as his fingers continue to stroke.

My thighs open a little of their own accord, my body turning pliant under his practiced touch.“I missed you,” I whisper.

A look of satisfaction flashes over his face before his eyes flare and he leans forward to bury his face in my neck. “I thought I’d lost you. Do you have any fucking idea how that felt? How it felt being without you?” His voice is low and intense like his fingers. It rumbles against my skin.

I know how it felt.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, though I’m not entirely sure why.

His body stiffens, and he removes his fingers from me to place them flat against my stomach instead.He lifts his head to look at me. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for, Alex.Fuck. I’msorry.” His free hand comes up to my face, thumb stroking across my cheek. “I missed you so much ... wanted to come over so many times. To see you, touch you.” He kisses me again, softer this time. “Be with you. Fucking beg you to take me back if I had to.”

“Why didn’t you?” My voice is more accusatory than intended.

He sighs. “Because I’m a coward, Alex. When it comes to you, I’m a total fucking coward. I think we’ve established that.” His eyes are filled with that same mix of pain and guilt from last week when he begged me not to leave him. It makes my stomach twist and my heart hurt.